Munich, Germany’s second most important city and eponymous title of a Steven Spielberg film about payback for Israeli athletes killed during the 1972 Olympics, was for the most part, a bust. We had exactly an hour to waste before showing up for our dinner reservations last night, and crazy as we are made a mad dash to see the Christkindlemarkt in downtown Munich. The gigantic crowds, traffic, and generic holiday stalls similar to the ones in Nuremberg earlier didn’t make the experience stand out in any positive way, which was unfortunate but good to know. I asked Teko what the most famous attraction there was in the city, which turned out to be a church we’d walked past earlier so it looked like we’d seen all there was to see. All that was left was dinner at an Italian restaurant famous for being frequented by a certain Austrian-born, mustachioed dictator that I was slightly apprehensive about going but gave in to as a favor to Teko. This Christmas trip was turning into a WW2 history tour.
In the end, the highlight of the city turned out to be dinner. I have to admit the food turned out better than expected but the service was just bad bordering on atrocious. If I wanted to eat at a place that felt like it was run by the mafia - loud, cussing waiters that behaved aggressively - I would have ordered Chinese instead.
Labels: Food, Germany, Holidays, Travel
